Gold Sun, My Fried Egg Knight
“Master.”
“Uh, yeah?”
“I asked if I should take care of this filthy rat bastard.”
The blond with golden eyes grabbed the rat's pointed snout and asked. There was an inexplicable leisure in his polite yet cocky tone. He was clearly much taller than me at a glance, and the rat thrashed wildly, clacking its teeth to escape his brutish grip.
“Y-yeah. Deal with it.”
“Understood. I'll handle it.”
He responded crisply. For some reason, a sense of trust welled up in his confident demeanor.
He's gotta be super strong, right?
Back-Alley Chef. Weird name, but it's a legit hidden class. Dahyun said hidden classes are ridiculously overpowered. My heart pounded at the thought of seeing it firsthand.
The personified fried egg began squeezing the massive rat in his hand.
“Haha! Nice! Crush it!”
Grk—
“Huh?”
He seemed to be getting pushed back by the giant rat at first, then thwack!
“Urk.”
He took a direct body slam from the rat and collapsed pathetically. His huge frame made the fall feel all the more thunderous.
“...He's ridiculously weak.”
I swung my frying pan at the rat charging straight for me after toppling the fried egg.
“Take this!”
Clang—!
Rat hit by frying pan—low probability Stun triggered!
“Nice.”
I pulled my sword from my inventory and charged at the dazed rat.
* * *
“Huff. Huff.”
A moment later, I'd barely managed to take down the rat. I tossed my bloodied sword to the ground and panted heavily. The massive rat, covered in filthy wounds from the blade, grew faint before crumbling into ash and scattering.
“Master. As you commanded, I've dealt with the rat.”
The guy who'd done nothing but get hit by the rat the whole time said shamelessly.
“I dealt with it!”
“I helped too.”
He replied calmly, face unchanging.
...So damn brazen.
Catching my breath, I examined him closely once more. Towering well over 180cm. Yolk-yellow hair and eyes. Tanned brown skin against a white suit. And that overall sleazy vibe.
...This guy's a total blond tanned thug?
I'd cranked the burner to max in my panic while frying the egg, scorching it brown in spots—and that must've carried over. Still, despite the delinquent danger aura, his polite speech felt like a reformed punk.
Cooking Summon Lv.1 → Proficiency +1.21%
Seeing the skill proficiency rise confirmed he was indeed a summon from Cooking Summon. But seriously, what kind of pitiful proficiency gain was that—like a rat hair's worth.
“What should I call you?”
“That's what I want to ask. What is my name?”
He asked in a dramatic, twinkling golden-eyed gaze.
Name your summon 'Fried Egg'.
Got it. No need to overthink.
“Your name is Geum Taeyang.”
Anyone could see he's a blond tanned thug. Intuitive and perfect.
“...Geum Taeyang? If I may ask, what does the name mean?”
“Well, you're a fried egg, right? It means your yolk is cool like a golden sun.”
“Ah, I see. Thank you for the wonderful name. You are my eternal sun, Master.”
He dropped to his knees, grabbed my hand, and gazed up at me with sparkling eyes like he was moved to tears.
...This is too much pressure.
“Uh, yeah. Glad you like it.”
I pulled my hand free from his oddly slippery fried-egg grip.
Summon 'Geum Taeyang (Fried Egg)' registered.
-Current summonable dish: 'Geum Taeyang (Fried Egg)' only.
-Raise skill level for more summons.
“By the way, don't you have a weapon?”
“I have a shield.”
A flash of light from his hand produced a massive fried-egg-shaped shield.
...Commitment to the concept is strong.
“Then why didn't you use it earlier?”
“I forgot.”
“......”
* * *
Scrape—
While the rat clawed at Geum Taeyang's shield with its teeth, I thrust my sword into its neck for the finish.
“Huff. Huff.”
“Well fought, Master.”
“Huff. Yeah, you too.”
“Shall you rest on my lap?”
“...Beat it.”
With Geum Taeyang tanking the rats' attacks, I handled the damage, slowly pushing deeper into the dungeon one giant rat at a time. He wasn't particularly tanky, nor was I a DPS powerhouse—every fight was a razor-thin nail-biter.
“Rested enough? Let's go.”
“Yes.”
Minare's Villa was a bigger dungeon than expected. Hours in, and only giant rats greeted us—no sign of the end.
As we trudged on, a sudden scorching heat hit from behind.
“Hm?”
Turning, a roaring inferno filled the tunnel like a tidal wave.
“What the hell is that?!”
“Master! Behind me!”
Geum Taeyang swiftly raised his shield.
Rumble—
“Nngh.”
The flames licked greedily at the shield, which sizzled, filling the air with a savory roasting scent.
“It won't hold long!”
I scanned around frantically. We were against the wall, and a handy crevice dipped into the rock beside us.
“Geum Taeyang! Here!”
I grabbed his arm and dove into the gap.
Rumble—
The shield burned away the instant we leaped; the flame wave swept past our spot by a hair's breadth.
Crammed in the tight space, Geum Taeyang and I stared blankly at the raging inferno.
“...It's hot.”
In the panic, I'd ended up hugging him from behind—wafting fried egg aroma and all. And why was his skin so slippery?
“It's hot. Am I the only one, Master?”
“One more word and I'll shove you out there.”
“......”
Once the flame wave passed and the heat cooled, we wriggled out from the cave corner.
The floor and walls still radiated warmth.
“What the hell was that?”
Muttering, I glanced toward the tunnel entrance where the flames had come from.
“What? There's a person?”
A tall red-haired woman strolled casually from that direction, muttering in surprise. Wizard apparently—big hat, gnarled staff. She exuded an aloof aura that screamed 'don't approach,' with lingering embers in the cave seeming to bow to her.
“Hey! Did you shoot that fire?!”
“And?”
She tilted her head high, looking down arrogantly.
“We almost died because of you!”
“So?”
“So?! We nearly got roasted by that flame! You can't just blast stuff without checking if anyone's around!”
She snorted derisively.
“Not my problem?”
“...What did you say?”
“Whether you croak or not ain't my business.”
She twirled her hair boredly, brushing it off.
“...No good. Geum Taeyang, give me a piggyback.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Nngh.”
Riding his shoulders put her head craned back to look up at me. Advantage secured—in fights or arguments, basics.
“Say it again. Like before, all snooty looking down on me.”
I wagged my finger wildly, yelling.
“Whoa. Master, if you keep squirming—”
Thud!
“Ack!”
“Master!”
Crash!
I smacked into a stalactite and tumbled off ungracefully.
The redhead eyed us pitifully.
“...What a bunch of idiots.”
She shook her head and walked past our sprawled forms.
“Ugh. Wait! Least you could do is apologize!”
“Apologize for what?”
“For nearly barbecuing people!”
She sighed, hand in pocket.
“I get it. You want money, right?”
“...What?”
“Here.”
Clink—
Several gold coins hit the ground, some rolling away.
Just like at the convenience store. The jerk tossed coins, forcing me to stoop and pick them up. But this was a game. I'm a chef. Did I have to grovel for coins here too?
No. I won't. I'm a chef—a sacred wielder of fire and blade! I can't cook with filthy hands that pick up floor change.
“Hey, you! Who do you think you're treating like a beggar?!”
“Dunno. I'm busy—eat that or whatever, or just scram.”
“This bitch...!”
She walked off without looking back.
“Hey! Stop! Heyyy!”
My shouts echoed hollowly in the cave. My head throbbed from the stalactite, shoulder ached from the fall. But worst was the frustration choking my chest.
Thud! Thud!
I pounded the floor with my fist. Without someone's kindness, was I doomed to crawl on the ground forever? What's the point of my life? Not scraping coins like this.
My path is the chef's way. My life's meaning comes from moving people with my cooking—like the first fried egg for my parents. Like the meal for Uncle Beda.
Their bright smiles, his tearful gratitude—still vivid. I only realized my path at twenty, just starting out. It's long and rough; I'm powerless, young, green. I must walk more, run harder.
To never bow weakly again.
...Just watch me.
“Master. Are you alright?”
Geum Taeyang, white suit filthy from the fall, helped me up.
“Geum Taeyang. You okay?”
“Yes. I'm fine. Don't worry.”
“Aigoo. Your suit's all stained... what now...”
I fussed over his once-angel-wing-white suit, now ruined. Felt like my fault—tears welled up.
“Clothes can be remade. You're more important than anything. Don't get hurt.”
He smiled warmly, golden eyes peering into mine.
Fried egg. My first dish, first real effort. The one that taught me cooking's meaning in life. The beginning of everything.
And now it was human, looking at me. Like reuniting with a long-lost child.
“Ugh! Geum Taeyang!”
“Master!”
I hugged him tight—like seeing a son who'd grown tough without me. Rough around the edges, sure.
“I picked these up.”
He'd wiped them on his clothes—still shiny gold coins handed over clumsily.
My heart ached. You bent down for me.
“...Good job.”
He beamed at the simple praise.
“Thank you.”
Coins spat out like the world's phlegm—yet he'd picked and polished them. Unpleasant symbolism, but I couldn't toss over 50,000 won just 'cause it soured my mood.
Pocketing the coins, I glared into the dark dungeon where the red-haired mage had gone.
Best revenge is forgiveness, they say. But I'm magnanimous enough for moderate payback.
A chef's revenge.
Just watch. I'll move you with my cooking. Make you beg for seconds.
And I won't give any. Not a single spoonful.